The Price of Understanding
by Surrendered to Christ
Summary: A hikari is supposed to be compassionate and kind...but when too much of anything is used, disaster strikes. Bakura learns this the hard way, and someone is going to pay the ultimate price for this lesson. Warning: characterdeath Please R&R!


Hi there! This is my first fic. Kind reviews welcome, of course!

This fic was just begging to be written. There's some Bakura OCCness, but nothing too major (I think).

This is rated PG-13 for language, blood, and death.

Please read and enjoy!

I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!

Yami = Yami Yugi

Bakura = Yami Bakura

The Price of Understanding

* * *

Pain.

That was all he knew.

Pain. A gnawing, gripping, torturing sensate ion that filled every inch of his being. It swirled and crackled gleefully within him. Burning, clawing, biting at his flesh and bones.

The pain paralyzed him. He was helpless. Completely and utterly helpless, at the mercy of this monster which had no shape or form. Lf he so much as twitched a finger, the pain would flare, punishing him for his disobedience. His mind floated on the brink of consciousness. It had long ago ceased to scream and cry, or process any coherent thoughts. It needed every ounce of energy it still had to merely keep his body alive, to keep his heart beating.

And so he lay, still as stone, fighting the monster that was within him, and growing by the second.

Bakura strolled confidently through the darkest allies of Domino. He felt at home here, in these lightless corridors. On this particular night, he felt particularly hyped. Energy was surging through his vines, just waiting to be used on something - or someone. Bakura grinned, rather manically. Yes, he would pity whoever was dumb enough to mess with him tonight.

As he breezed through the darkened streets, hunting for action, a familiar scent made him pause.

He sniffed the air. Yup. No doubt about it. The coppery scent of blood was there, wafted over by the winds that whistled through the narrow passageways.

Bakura hesitated, then curiosity won him over. He changed courses, and set off the find the source of the blood scent.

That was a decision he would be forever glad he made.

The former tomb-robber tracked the scent's source with the ease of long practice. He followed it through ally after ally, street after street. Lt led him deeper and deeper into the shadows, and the heart of Domino's network of back passages.

The increasing stench of blood told him he was nearing its source.

That was when he stepped into a puddle of warm liquid. The substance stepped through the material of his shoes and socks, tainting them.

Bakura drew his foot back with a snarl. He squinted, trying to make out if anything was in the ally with him.

As if it had read his mind, a strand of light from a star broke through its cloudy prison above him. It lit up the ally, penetrating the darkness with an unusually strong light.

Bakura felt his eyes widen at the scene he saw.

Blood was everywhere. It dripped from the walls, and flowed in small streams that fed into puddles. The dark liquid consumed the area, defiling all it touched. It glinted on the walls, as if mocking the weakness of life.

But it wasn't the amount of blood that had captured Bakura's attention.

It was who all that blood had come from that the white haired teen was gaping at.

Two figures lay on opposite sides of the ally, both utterly still. One of the figures was all too familiar to the former tomb robber. At that moment, he forgot all the past things that had occurred between him and the teen that now lay on the hard concrete, surrounded by his own blood. He forgot the old grudges and past conflicts. His legs carried him forward, until he reached the boy lying on the floor, unmoving. His heart thudded in his chest, and he was ignorant of the blood that now soaked his feet.

Bakura knelt carefully next to the bloody boy. Relief flooded through him when he noticed the slight raise and fall of the other's chest.

Reaching out, Bakura carefully moved the half unconscious teen onto his lap.

A tremor ran through the body he was holding. Bakura's eyes accessed the other's condition.

The boy's breathing was ragged and irregular. Blood poured out from wounds all over his body, and trickled from his slightly parted mouth. His clothes…

Bakura blinked. His clothes were in ruins. It looked like his attacker had tried to strip him- and succeeded. His shirt was all but off, and his pants (if you could still call it that) were shredded, mangled beyond repair.

Understanding and realization of what had happened hit Bakura with the force of a boulder.

And then … the bloody teen's eyes flickered open.

Chocolate eyes met crimson ones.

"Yami…" Bakura muttered. "Yami, what'd he do to you?"

Yami didn't reply. His eyes were clouded with pain. There were no signs he even knew who was now holding him.

"It's me, idiot. Bakura," The tomb robber said impatiently. "C'mon, you know me. How the hell can you not? Tell me what happened, willya?!"

No reply.

"Dammit, you moron, say something!" Bakura snapped.

A flicker of recognition appeared in Yami's eyes.

"Ku…ra…" His voice was raspy and weak.

"Yes?" Bakura growled.

"Tell…Yugi…that I'm…sorry… I… hurt…him…" Yami managed to gasp out.

Bakura stared at him. "Whaddaya talking about?"

Yami shut his eyes, but forced himself to speak. "He's…mad…because…I… hurt…the bully…who…" He was cut short as he started to cough violently. More blood leaked out of his mouth. Tremors wrecked his battered body. Bakura grabbed his shoulders to steady him.

"Yami…" the white haired spirit whispered, "Did that guy raped you?" He jerked his head towards the still body on the opposite side of the ally.

Yami's eyes snapped open. Fear was clearly embedded in them. "He came…outta nowhere…I didn't…meanna kill…him……Yugi…he'll be mad…again…"The boy chocked out. He was panting, struggling to breath. Tears started to run down his blood - streaked face.

Impulsively, Bakura pulled the shaking teen close. Questions were racing through his mind, and he was trying to make some sort of sense out of them. What had happened exactly? From what he had gathered…

"Yami," Bakura said urgently. "Tell me if this is right. Basically, Yugi got mad at you for hurting a guy who'd've otherwise hurt him, so he kicked you out, and you came here, and got attacked, right?"

"Yes." Yami whispered. "I killed…that guy…I didn't…meanna……tell Yugi… I'm sorry…"

"Shutup." Bakura snapped. Yami opened his eyes to give him a startled look, then closed them again as pain surged through his weak frame.

Bakura felt to energy in his blood turn to boiling rage within him. Yugi! He's always thought (although not very nicely) of that kid as compassionate and kind…how could he do this to his own yami?! And speaking of Yami…the fool!!! How could he still defend that shameless, selfish, thoughtless, idiotic, littlebrat?!

"Nggg…" Bakura looked down. Yami was struggling to hang on, to keep breathing.

"Dammit, Yami, don't die!" Bakura growled, surprising himself. There'd been a time when he'd have given anything to see this guy dead. _But he doesn't deserve it. He doesn't deserve this kind of death. I understand now. He doesn't deserve to die. _Bakura felt slightly ashamed for having tried to hurt him before. He didn't deserve any of it. The hatred and hostility thrown at him… they weren't something he'd earned.

"Kura"

The tomb robber looked down when Yami whispered his name. "Yeah?"

"Tell Yugi…if he asks…that it wasn't…his fault…"

_If he asks. _**IF**_ he asks? _Bakura thought angrily. What has that that been doing to his yami?!

"Why do you trust me?" He heard himself asking.

"'s not …your fault……I…forgive…you…too…" He was now obviously on the brink of death. His skin was a sickly white and lacked any warmth.

"Don't die, Yami. Hang on, I'll get help-" He was cut off.

"No……stay…please…" The words were barely audible. Bakura winced. How could he say no?

As they huddled there, two former enemies who now clung to each other, time seemed to stand still. Bakura could practically see the spirit, the life force, leaving the wrecked body of the fallen pharaoh. Yami relaxed, no longer battling the inevitable. His heart slowed, and so did his breathing. His eyes opened slightly and locked with Bakura's. The pain was gone from them. He was now beyond pain. They held now a blissful peace. The monster had released him, and death had come to take him home.

A slight smile formed on his now pale face.

"Thank you."

His last two words were soft, but surprisingly clear. His bright crimson eyes closed for the last time. But even as his spirit fled its prison of flesh, his smile never left his face. Yami slipped quietly into the next world in the strong arms of his former enemy.

Bakura felt Yami sag gently against him as he died. He was left holding the body, the shell, of what once had been the Pharaoh of Egypt, the Morning and Evening Star.

_He didn't deserve this._ Bakura thought bitterly. _I finally realize that. And what does he do? He dies. Damn you, Yami, you couldn't have waited?!_

_Ah, but if he had, you wouldn't have realized that when you did._ A voice in the back of his mind told him.

Bakura stared down at Yami's body, and the small smile he still wore.

_He died with no grudges…_

Bakura felt a tear snake its way down his face, and made no effort to wipe it away.

The single tear left a wet streak on his cheek, before dripping onto Yami's still chest.

* * *

So, whacha think?

I'm thinking about either a sequel or a continuation, where 'Kura confronts Yugi. Well? How does that sound?

Review! Thanks.


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